


Hunting the Demon

by Traced640



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Also I like Jack abuse leave me alone, M/M, and even longer since I did anything with action scenes, be gentle me with, gay things happened, it's been apromiximately 3975 years since I last wrote fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7676860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traced640/pseuds/Traced640
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Found you, Jackie-boy.” The words sent shivers down the soldiers back as he desperately leapt back, hoping for a better range for his rifle. Reaper chuckled as he advanced, easily keeping up with Jack’s quick pace. Smoke bled off his form as he grinned under the mask. Widowmaker always said this was the best part of the fight. He finally understood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting the Demon

Dual shotguns lit up the alley in a dazzling lightshow, firing their lethal charges toward the soldier ducking away from the bullets.

Jack ducked into a doorway, managing to shield himself from the hail of bullets that rained down around him. The ornate woodwork of the stoop around him exploded into sharp chips that sprayed into his skin and left holes in his jacket, but there was no real sign of damage. Yet.

Letting out a faint curse, Jack sprang out from the doorway, rolling to safety behind a fountain in the middle of the dark square. Reaper didn’t see the quiet move but that wouldn’t keep him safe for long. After all, he did have a bright red glowing visor attached to his face.

Reaper continued his battery of the walls and doorways around him, blasting into them with reckless abandon. He gave no mind to those inside, cowering behind cupboards and counters, praying for the walls to hold to bullets and not strike one of them dead.  

“Oh, Jackie-boy!” Jack winced at the nickname. How could something so sweet and affectionate become so twisted by hatred and fear? Then again, that _was_ what turned Gabe into the monster that they now called Reaper.

“Jackie-boy!” Reaper called again, the stench of death infecting every word rasped from his undead throat. He sauntered down the street, allow for his body to become corporal, just to hear his boots crunch satisfactorily against the cobblestone.  Red eyes bled smoke as they searched for the vanished soldier as a taunting voice oozed from the smoke once again.

“You were supposed to die in the explosion, you know.”

Jack grit his teeth. There was no doubt that the explosion at the Swiss headquarters was meant for him, along with the beating heart of the Overwatch. And it had almost worked, leveling not only the physical embodiment of the program, but everything it stood for. The people turned against them, the agents were scattered into the wind and many were thought to be dead.

Reaper had rambled enough, Jack decided. With a grunt and a promise from his old bones that he would be sore tomorrow, Jack rolled out from behind the fountain, firing a volley of Helix missiles at Reaper’s back.

Reaper hissed and vanished into a cloud of thick black smoke. The missile passed through him harmlessly before exploding against one of the walls, sending dust and a small amount of rubble crumbling to the ground.

“Found you, Jackie-boy.” The words sent shivers down the soldiers back as he desperately leapt back, hoping for a better range for his rifle. Reaper chuckled as he advanced, easily keeping up with Jack’s quick pace. Smoke bled off his form as he grinned under the mask. Widowmaker always said this was the best part of the fight. He finally understood.

Solidifying right in front of Jack, a black clothed hand knocked the Pulse Rifle far from his grasp before catching Jack across the face in a sharp backhand. The claws left red cuts along his forehead and scratched into the metal of his visor.

A cry was forced from his lungs as blood dripped into his visor, blinding him temporarily. Reaper didn’t waste his chance, giving the soldier another sharp punch to the visor. Jack’s heart sank as the red light began to flicker and die, plunging him into darkness.

Yet another unwasted opportunity by Reaper, who simply shoved Jack to the ground like a school yard bully. Jack stumbled and fell, still desperately trying to find some kind of light source in the dark night. This was the problem with something like his tactical visor; he became too reliant on it, making it impossible to function without.

Reaper aimed a kick into Jack’s fragile bones, a grotesque smile pulling at his lips under the protection of the cool porcelain of his mask as the dull snap of breaking bones filled the air. Jack cursed and fumbled with the visor. If he could get it off, perhaps he would have a better chance of seeing the oncoming attacks. Another kick interrupted the processes, making Jack wheeze. Abandoning the visor, he simply curled in a tighter ball, trying to ward off any other attacks.

Jack was blind, weaponless, and in immense pain. It was funny, really—a building collapsing atop him didn’t kill him, but his best friend turned smoky monster had him down in a few swift blows. Perhaps it was because Jack couldn’t bear to raise a hand against his former friend.

Gabe...” Jack gasped out around the pain in his stomach.

Memories of years passed flashed through Reaper’s mind; memories of Jack’s soft lips pressing against his own chapped ones, of Jack whispering his name in the early hours of dawn—sleepless, tired hours that they spent wrapped in each other’s arms, protecting from the monsters that haunted both of their dreams. These moments were once cherished in both men’s minds.

Now, his old name simply proved to enrage him. Gabriel Reyes was _dead_ and only a monster stood in his place. “No.” Reaper all but roared at Jack, giving him another kick to abdomen. “Gabe is dead! And _you_ killed him!”

Jack cried out again as the blow struck, but nothing hurt more than the words spewed through such a hateful mouth. He never meant for any of this to happen the way it did. The words cut deep, leaving countless unseen wounds in their wake.

“I’m sorry, Gabe.”

This time the boot landed on Jack’s hand, crushing his fingers between the sole and the cool stone of the street. Jack whined in pain, quietly trying to draw his fingers back in toward his broken and battered body.

“Gabe’s dead, Jack.”

A shotgun was pulled from its holster and in one swift motion, aimed at Jack’s blind face.

“And so are you.”

A clawed hand squeezed the trigger.

A bang. A flash of light.

And Jack Morrison was gone.

Reaper turned on his heel and clacked his way back down the street, pausing only to grab the Pulse Rifle. Talon would have some kind of use for it, he was sure.

The pain gracing his face went unseen as he returned to the Talon headquarters. Reaper stopped only to drop the rifle off and made a beeline for his room.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys want, I can do more, maybe turn this into some kind of mini series? It's been a while since I last wrote fanfiction and I don't think I've ever posted any of it, so feedback is welcomed! Thank you for reading!


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